


Trust issues

by dani_the_girl



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:09:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dani_the_girl/pseuds/dani_the_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Merlin doesn't turn to look.  He can't take his eyes off the look of growing horror in Arthur's face, off the eyes, now blue again, which he just saw flash gold.  Very carefully, braced, he reaches down again, groping and grasping for the warm solid weight of his power.  There's nothing there."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust issues

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I'm going to declare this finished now. It's not perfect, but I think it does most of what I wanted it to. It's also much longer than I thought it would be! Takes place somewhere after season 1, I guess.

Merlin swears as the damn fire fails to light for what feels like the hundredth time and he drops the flint _again_. He can hear what sounds like an uncommonly energetic Arthur for this time of the morning crashing around in the other room. He glances over his shoulder and the connecting door is firmly closed. I give up, he thinks, and, fishing the flint out of the hearth, he reaches for his power, intending to feed it into the twigs and kindling laid out in the fireplace. Immediately, a wave of nausea and dizziness rolls over him. He loses his balance and shoots out a hand to catch himself as he falls out of his crouch. Of course, this upsets the hearth furniture and tongs, hearth brush, and shovel clatter down onto the hearth in front of him.

As if the morning wasn't bad enough, this brings Arthur to the doorway. He surveys the scene with a look somewhere between amusement and annoyance. "For goodness sake, Merlin!" he says, and raises his hand to gesture at the mess of the fireplace. Behind him, the fire springs to life in the hearth, but Merlin doesn't turn to look. He can't take his eyes off the look of growing horror in Arthur's face, off the eyes, now blue again, which he just saw flash gold. Very carefully, braced, he reaches down again, groping and grasping for the warm solid weight of his power. There's nothing there.

Don't panic, he tells himself. Don't panic. There's just some mistake, some problem and Gaius will be able to figure it out. He wants to leap up and run down to the physicians quarters straight away but the look on Arthur's face holds him where he is. He has never seen Arthur look like this. So horrified. Arthur moves over to the table in a daze, his eyes flashing again as he absently moves the chair out so that he can slump down into it without even realising what he's doing. He's staring at his hand as if it will bite him, or perhaps will have to be cut off to prevent the spread of some poison.

"My father will have me executed," Arthur says softly. He lets his hand drop to the arm of the chair and stares at the fire as if hypnotised. Merlin wants to protest, to say that Arthur is Uther's son, that surely Uther will see that Arthur didn't choose this, that he couldn't help it but he knows there's no point. Arthur's right. Uther will execute him.

"Don't tell him," he suggests instead.

"And be executed as a dishonoured liar instead of just a traitor when he finds out?" Arthur asks with some asperity.

"Why should he find out?" Merlin asks, becoming roused in the face of Arthur's apparent death wish. "Just don't do anything and I'll talk to Gaius and he'll figure some way we can get you back to normal."

This rouses Arthur in turn. "Don't be an idiot, Merlin! I won't have you put Gaius in danger. If he knew a way to cure people of magic, he would have spoken up about it years ago."

Merlin opens his mouth, on the point of protesting that the point is not to cure away the magic but to _swap it back_ and then closes it with a snap. Arthur has no reason to associate his sudden magical abilities with Merlin at all. A feeling of intense relief rushes through him, immediately followed by one of guilt. Arthur still doesn't know his secret. On the other hand, unless he can do something about this very quickly, Arthur is going to get himself executed out of some kind of misguided sense of nobility for a crime that's not really his.

"This isn't regular magic though," he says quickly. "You didn't _say_ anything, it just happened. That's not normal surely? And you've never done anything like that before."

Arthur looks suspiciously at him for a moment before conceding. "Very well. Ask discreetly."

Merlin breathes a sigh of relief and makes a dash for Gaius' quarters.

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Gaius, when consulted, has never heard of anything remotely like this happening before. He starts worriedly poring over books that live in the back of the cupboard underneath some of the smellier ingredients for his medicines, books Merlin is pretty sure are supposed to have been destroyed. Merlin tries to help for an hour or so but his ability to research is pretty poor at the best of times and this is decidedly not the best of times. Eventually Gaius takes pity on him and tells him he'd better go and catch up on his duties.

He's intending to have a quiet half hour to himself doing the tidying up but when he opens the door to Arthur's chambers, Arthur is still there. He spins around as soon as he hears Merlin enter and his eyes flash. The door slams shut behind Merlin, who tries not to start at the sound.

"Damn it!" mutters Arthur. "What news," he demands in a more normal voice, with only a slight edge to it betraying his state of mind.

"Uh, Gaius is looking into it, sire," Merlin says.

"You told him, didn't you," Arthur says accusingly.

"No! Honestly!" Merlin lies. "I just said it was a friend of mine."

"Well, I shouldn't worry," Arthur says sourly, "I'm sure the whole castle will know soon enough. I can't seem to stop using it." Merlin gapes at him, wondering what on earth Arthur has been using it for. "Oh stop looking like that," Arthur snaps. "You would too if it happened to you. It's so _easy_. I want something and there it is before I've had to think about it." As if to illustrate the point, the jug on the table pours out a glass of water of its own accord and the glass wafts itself into Arthur's hand.

Merlin racks his brains, trying to remember how he got control of his magic. The trouble is, he can't really remember when he didn't have control over it. The only thing he can come up with is his mother making references to toilet training, which suggests it must have been pretty young. On the other hand, that's a good two years after he first got the use of it, according to her stories, which is time Arthur definitely does not have.

"Perhaps you should try doing it deliberately," he suggests, not at all sure this is a good idea. "Then you could get a feel for how it works and how to get it to not work."

Arthur gives him one of his patented down-the-nose glares. "Don't be an idiot, Merlin. Even if it is only temporary, I cannot deliberately do magic in my fathers house."

"We could go hunting," Merlin suggests, slightly horrified that it has come to this. _He_ is suggesting that they go hunting. And he doesn't have access to any magical help when it comes to setting up the camp. "You could try it out in the forest."

"Now that sounds almost sensible," Arthur says approvingly. "Go saddle up my mount and requisition some supplies."

* * *

 

Seeing the tension unwind out of Arthur's shoulders as they ride away from the city makes it almost worth being out away from civilization again. Merlin reflects, not for the first time, that only people who've got ridiculous beds and furs and roaring fires in well lit, well built castles actually enjoy sleeping rough. As far as he is concerned, Arthur's love of three day hunting trips is yet further proof that soft living makes you soft in the head.

They catch a surprising amount of game, even for Arthur, and after a while, Merlin starts to wonder whether Arthur is using his new found powers to help him hold his prey as he shoots. There's certainly a lot fewer rabbits leaping away just before the shafts let fly but Arthur is generally ahead of him so he can't see if the eyes are flashing. On the whole, he thinks he prefers it that way. He hadn't realised how disconcerting the eye thing was until he started seeing it from the outside although his mother had told him enough times. Arthur's face looks wrong without his blue eyes, less friendly, less merciful, less _real_ in some ways. He shakes himself. It's thinking like that that starts anti-sorcerer prejudice, he tells himself. Arthur yells to him and he realises that he should probably make shift before he gets left behind while he daydreams.

When Arthur finally decides to call it a day, he picks them a suitable clearing and leaves Merlin to deal with the tents while he goes off to gather firewood, having apparently decided that this is the ideal use for his earth shattering new powers. Merlin glares at the tent dubiously. It must be _possible_ to put it up on one's own. After all the other knights' body servants seem to manage it somehow. Maybe it's just a matter of getting things propped right.

Three attempts later, he is seriously considering suggesting to Arthur that they sleep under the stars. Only the fact that this is Albion and the fact that it is late summer gives no guarantees that it's not going to piss it down with rain at some point stops him. Plus it would be cold. But he wouldn't have strangled himself with a guy rope.

He's well into round four when Arthur comes back into the clearing. He can tell this without being able to see out from under the canvas where he's trying to get the poles wedged into the ground firmly enough to be able to peg something because the pole he's just left, which is already tilting dangerously ground-wards, suddenly stands up straight and stays planted. He puts the other one in position and crawls outside to peg out the guys. Arthur is staring at the tent with concentration and golden eyes. "Thanks," Merlin says awkwardly.

"Don't mention it," Arthur says. "You'd better go grab some water while I start a fire."

They make a good dinner of one of the rabbits Arthur caught, and Merlin catches himself thinking that at least Arthur hasn't also pinched his ability to cook, leaving him feeling completely useless. It's not Arthur's fault, he reminds himself. It's just that now they're out of the castle and away from the threat of Uther's wrath, Arthur seems to be enjoying himself a little too much. Merlin glances over to where the Crown Prince is carefully juggling branches without ever touching any of them and tries not to resent the fact that he's actually having to wash up manually. It's not like Arthur can use it up, after all.

Once all the chores are done, they end up sitting in the twilight, staring at the fire. Merlin is half dozing and so when Arthur speaks he feels asleep at first, having a conversation you would never have in the light of day.

"I can see why my father is frightened of sorcerers," Arthur says. He's feeding the fire by using magic to waft branches into the best spots.

Merlin is too taken aback to reply for a moment. He makes a non-committal noise, which Arthur apparently takes as invitation to continue.

"Everything's so much easier," he expands. "I could win every fight I started."

"So were you stopping the game from running away then?" Merlin asks, curiously.

"Of course not," Arthur exclaims, looking slightly offended. "It's my own performance that's improved. It lets me smooth out everything, correct any slight imbalance in the bow or the arrow, move truly quietly when I want to, hold my own balance just right. It lets me move the way I know I should, rather than only as close to it as I can get."

A knot forms in Merlin's stomach. Arthur's right - he would be unbeatable. "Are you considering keeping it?" he asks. He's trying to sound casual but it doesn't really come out right. Fortunately, Arthur's too self involved to notice.

"God, no," he says, with certainty. "Definitely not."

"Why not," Merlin asks, surprised. It's the answer he wanted and yet it's not.

Arthur sighs. "You really don't understand how this works, do you, Merlin. Even if I could some how keep it a secret from my father, I'm going to be the king. If I'm this powerful, the people will either stagnate or get rebellious."

Merlin must be betraying the fact that he has no idea what Arthur is talking about on his face, because Arthur sighs and continues.

"The relationship between the king and his people is a bargain, Merlin. If I enter that bargain from a position of too much strength, the people will resent me and if I push them into a position where they think there's nothing that they can bargain to give me, they'll become disloyal and look elsewhere for a ruler. In order to keep power, I'd have to become everything my father fought against."

Merlin stares at him. "Do you always think like this?" Arthur shrugs, flushing, faintly embarrassed.

They fall silent and Arthur continues to juggle branches while Merlin thinks about it. About the negotiations over the price the kitchens at Camelot pay for their flour. About the contracts the king places in the city for fabrics and armaments and stonework. He feels irrationally angry to think of Uther as some kind of benevolent partner in all these transactions.

"So you won't be changing anything when you get your turn then?" he asks, breaking the silence. The branches still, frozen in the air.

"Do you think I should?" Arthur asks, and there's something in the tone that makes Merlin freeze in his turn, cursing himself for his inability to keep his mouth shut.

"Just wondering," he replies lamely. Arthur looks away and spirits the branches over to the fire. There's an uncomfortable silence for a moment and then Arthur pulls himself up and rummages in their bags, coming back a second later with a wineskin. He takes a long draft and then wafts it over to Merlin. It's not until he's taking his own draft that Merlin suddenly sees the incongruity of it, wonders why Arthur didn't just make Merlin fetch wine if he wanted some the way he always does usually. He looks sidelong at Arthur, who has settled down again a little way around the fire and is lounging back staring into the flames. Perhaps the only way Arthur can deal with Prince Arthur working magic is not to be Prince Arthur for a little while.

"Isn't that what your father's done to the magic users, though?" he blurts out, surprised at his own temerity. "Put them in a position where they can't bargain?"

He watches Arthur, trying to read his reactions, but Arthur's eyes are opaque, reflecting back the firelight and giving nothing away. "Would they bargain?" Arthur asks. "All those we've met seem to place their own concerns far above those of anyone else in the kingdom. They take what they want if they can with no thought for who gets hurt. That's what I meant - it's too easy for them. If you can beat a man without breaking a sweat, you'll have no respect for him."

"They've no other way to get anything," Merlin points out. "And those who don't rate their concerns above those of the kingdom are all in hiding or fled in accordance with your law."

"So they wish to bring me to the table," Arthur says softly. The fire flares up high between them. "And this?" he asks. "Is this a bribe or a threat, do you think?" Merlin doesn't reply. "Where does it come from?" Arthur asks finally, intensely. "It cannot have been spun from nothing, not power like this. There has to be a balance. Someone has given it to me and yet what sorcerer would give up their power? Where did it come from?"

His eyes are boring into Merlin as he finishes and Merlin thinks that maybe this is the only chance he has to tell Arthur the truth. That perhaps, with all Merlin's power at his fingertips, Arthur will simply crush him, believing that Merlin has somehow forced them into this position for his own aims. Arthur is focused, intent, a concentration that Merlin recognises from their earlier hunting, focused on some luckless rabbit. He thinks that perhaps Arthur already knows.

"It's mine," he admits and starts to shake in reaction as Arthur immediately softens back into a more relaxed position, watching him from across the fire.

"I thought it might be," Arthur says slightly smugly. "It's pretty clear that you can't reach even your usual level of uselessness without some external assistance." Which is how Merlin knows it's going to be OK.

"So, Ealdor, the whirlwind," Arthur asks. "That was you?" Merlin nods. "And the thing with the snakes on the shield?"

"I saw them, and then I woke them up again before he was ready so everyone else would," Merlin explains slightly confusedly.

"What else?" Arthur asks.

"Umm, just, you know, stuff as needed," Merlin says vaguely.

"You are an idiot, Merlin," Arthur says without heat. "I'm forbidding you to use it unless it's a real emergency. And having trouble putting up a tent does not qualify."

Merlin thinks about reminding Arthur about the juggling earlier in the evening, but decides on balance not to. He's not that much of an idiot. "OK," he says instead. It feels weird to have Arthur knowing and accepting it. He wonders what would have happened if Arthur had found out before this. "It's not like I can do anything at the moment anyway," he adds ruefully.

"Mmmm," Arthur agrees. "So this wasn't your idea then?"

"No!" Merlin exclaims, slightly hurt that Arthur would even think it. "Arthur, I wouldn't..."

"Alright, alright," Arthur breaks in. "I believe you. Particularly given your complete ignorance of practical politics. But in that case, how did I get it and how am I going to give it back."

"I have no idea," Merlin sighs. "We'll think of something when we get back."

They both stare into the fire for a little while. Merlin can't believe he's actually told Arthur and it's gone so well. It's like a weight has been lifted - a huge relief, but also a little disorienting. Common sense, which, Arthur to the contrary, he does possess, tells him to leave it at that but it's like the site of a pulled tooth - he can't resist poking at it.

"Sorry," he says awkwardly.

"Hmm?" Arthur responds, looking up quizzically from his reverie.

"For..." Merlin starts and then tails off, not sure what to say.

"Did you choose this?" Arthur asks, briskly.

"No, it's just there. Part of me," Merlin replies.

"Have you deliberately harmed anyone with it? Or used it to cheat?"

"No! I've been as honest as I could," Merlin protests.

"Then you've nothing to apologise for," Arthur says and seems to consider the matter closed.

"But I didn't tell you," Merlin says softly.

Arthur shrugs. "I can see why you didn't feel comfortable saying anything." There's a faint flush on his cheeks as he stares into the fire. "I know what it feels like," he says softly after a moment, watching the flames. They both sit quiet, staring at the fire, the wineskin wafting between them as they consider all the things that have been said.

"So, will you bargain with me?" Merlin asks. He feels crazy but something tells him that if he wants to be able to ask later, he needs to ask now. They are closer to equal than they have ever been, this evening.

"No," Arthur says, without looking up. Before Merlin has time to protest, to argue, he sweeps on, "Not yet. A bargain should be made when both sides have something to offer. Bargains based on future speculations risk losing their savour by the time they are executed. At the moment, I have your power and none of my own. Ask me when I have something to give you that's not already yours by right."

He heaves himself up and banks the fire before opening the tent flap. "Goodnight, Merlin," he says and then disappears inside.

"Goodnight," Merlin replies to the empty clearing, wondering whether he should feel hopeful or worried.

* * *

 

Fortunately, the tents are much easier to take down than to put up, and so they are able to mount up and start back to Camelot before the morning is too far advanced and before Arthur reaches the point of actually kicking Merlin to get him moving. Arthur manages to pack up all the rest of their camp without using any magic and so they decide it is probably safe for them to return. Merlin finds himself a little irritated that Arthur should be picking things up so fast. It's not that he wants him to get himself into trouble but he wouldn't have minded seeing Arthur struggle for once. Arthur makes no reference to their conversation of the night before as he rides and Merlin decides to keep quiet as well and just hope that they can fix things.

They reach the castle just after the midday meal and Merlin is in the process of serving Arthur with some late lunch in the privacy of his chambers when a soft knock on the door startles them both. Arthur deliberately floats the wine glass Merlin has just knocked over back to the table and then nods at Merlin to open the door. To his endless relief, it's Gaius, who gives Merlin a worried look and steps inside.

"Sire," he says, with a small bow, "I think I may have discovered a way to resolve your predicament. Have you received any gifts on the day before you," he pauses, and then concludes "began showing symptoms."

Arthur glares at Merlin. "I thought you were supposed to say it was a friend of yours. Perhaps I should have remembered you haven't got that many friends." Merlin is about to protest at this - he's got plenty of friends below stairs, it's just that Arthur never meets them - but Arthur has already turned back to Gaius. "I don't recall anything of significance, Gaius."

"It would not necessarily have been of significance, my lord," Gaius explains. "And it would probably have been delivered by Merlin here in order for it to, ah, take effect."

Merlin's heart sinks. "I know what it was," he says, rummaging through the contents of Arthur's desk. He comes up with a small wooden box, intricately carved and elegant looking. "That man in the square asked me to give it to you as a sample of his work."

"And you made some pompous speech when you gave it to me," Arthur recalls.

"He asked me too!" Merlin protests and then stops again when Gaius glares at him.

"Really, Merlin," Gaius scolds, "you ought to know better. What were you asked to say?"

Merlin racks his brain. "Please accept this gift, freely given, as a token and demonstration of my skills in the hope that you can find a profitable use for them," he recites after a moment. "He was very definite."

Arthur rolls his eyes. "You are an idiot, Merlin. I can't believe I may have to forbid you to give me verbatim messages again. I'm amazed you managed to deliver that one well enough to make it work."

"He seemed nice," Merlin says weakly, "hard working. I wanted to help him out."

Gaius takes the box and examines the carvings on the top and sides. "As I thought," he says. "My lord, I think I can make a preparation to, ah, return things to normal if you wish."

"Do so as soon as possible," Arthur says definitely, and then suddenly turns to Merlin, a question in his eyes.

Merlin nods slightly and says "Gaius, Arthur knows. Will I be back to normal as well?"

Gaius' eyebrows disappear into his hairline and Merlin knows he's going to get a lecture on taking care of his secret identity later. Aloud though, all he says is "As much as you ever are, Merlin. I have all the ingredients to hand in my chambers but the infusion will need to steep for a full night and day. I will send it up with Merlin and some instructions with your evening meal tomorrow. If I may take this, sire?" he finishes, gesturing at the box.

"Of course," Arthur says dismissively. "Thank you, Gaius. I know I can always rely on you." When Gaius has closed the door and left, he subjects Merlin to a long look. "You do know that the practice of magic is illegal in Camelot, Merlin?"

Merlin wants to point out that if he didn't, he wouldn't be so petrified of being found out all the time, but he contents himself with a sulky "Yes."

"So how many other people in the castle know that you're a sorcerer?" Arthur asks. "Should I assume that Gwen is also in on this?" His eyes widen. "Morgana?"

"Nobody!" Merlin exclaims. "I'm not stupid!" Arthur shoots him a 'you could have fooled me' look. "Gaius found out when I saved his life, otherwise I wouldn't have told him. I wouldn't have told you if I hadn't had to."

"Okay, okay," Arthur says, making calm down motions with his hands. "Just remember that aiding and abetting is also punishable by death if my father decides the case merits it. Don't tell anyone else."

Merlin wants to snap again, but he reminds himself how lucky he is to be getting off with just admonitions to keep it secret and says "Yes sire. Do you want any more lunch?"

* * *

 

"Merlin! Merlin!"

Merlin opens his eyes blearily to find that it is still the middle of the night and he is being shaken awake by a Crown Prince, who looks more than a little wild around the eyes. "Thank God for that," Arthur mutters. "You sleep like the dead! Something is calling your name."

"Well, yes," Merlin points out with the best attempt at logic he can manage at this point. "You are."

"No, in my head," Arthur retorts in a strangled whisper. "And I hate you for making me say that. I sound like a lunatic."

"Oh shit!" Merlin croaks, as his brain catches up and he realises what Arthur must be hearing.

"What?" Arthur asks tensely. "Do you know what it is?"

"It's," Merlin starts and then stops, rehearsing the upcoming sentence in his head. "Look, do you know what your father keeps under the castle?"

"A lot of damp cellars?" Arthur asks, looking puzzled.

"Not exactly, no. Or, well, not only that. Come on," he says and sits up in bed, pushing off the covers.

"Oh no!" Arthur retorts and shoves him back down. "We're not wandering anywhere in the middle of the night until you tell me what the hell is going on!" He leans his weight on Merlin's shoulders to emphasise the point.

Merlin swallows hard. Arthur this close has a presence that is unignorable. "Your father has a dragon imprisoned in a cave under the castle," he says very fast, wanting to get it out as soon as possible.

Arthur lets go of him and sits up. "A dragon?" he asks. Merlin nods. "Which calls out to you in the night?"

"Not my fault," Merlin says quickly. Arthur glares at him. "Well it's pretty bloody hard to sleep through, as you've noticed!"

"How do I get it to shut up?" Arthur asks.

"I'd better go and visit it," Merlin says with a sigh and makes to get up again. Arthur stands up with alacrity and spins round to face the wall while Merlin dresses.

"Let's not even go into the fact that you're on visiting terms with a dangerous magical beast that my father presumably has chained up because he can't kill it, and get to the point. What is he waking you up in the night for?"

"I have no idea," Merlin admits. "It varies." He pulls open the door and gestures to Arthur to precede him.

"I'm starting to think you should be locked up for your own protection," Arthur says meditively when they're out in the corridor. "Lead on."

* * *

 

It only nearly kills them in the end. Fortunately, Arthur instinctively throws up a magical shield which diverts the fire away to either side of them but Merlin finds himself shaking, feeling the heat of it. Realising it can't hurt them, the dragon falls back on furious, incoherent ranting, accusing Arthur of being worse than Uther for stealing Merlin's power for his own and Merlin of trying to escape his destiny by getting rid of his powers onto Arthur. These accusations are mutually incompatible of course, but Merlin decides it's not worth pointing out. He tries to calm things down, to find out what the dragon had called him down here for in the first place, but it refuses point blank to tell them anything while their bond is in this unnatural state.

When they leave to return to the castle proper, Arthur is uncharacteristically silent. It's close enough to dawn that Merlin decides it's not worth trying to go back to bed and just follows Arthur up the stairs to his chamber. Arthur stalks over to the window and Merlin starts tidying up. He's never sure how come there always seems to be so much stuff out in here, but the fact remains that Arthur is obviously a slob and there's always a lot of tidying up to do.

After a little while, Arthur snaps "Oh for goodness sake, Merlin! You're not required to be here every minute." He's still staring out at the view of the courtyard.

"No, I know that," Merlin says carefully, wondering what on earth the matter is. "I just thought I'd get a few things done. If you'd rather have some peace and quiet, I can come and do it later."

"I'm sure you've better things to be doing," Arthur says. "I'll see to it myself. It should be easy while I have your abilities."

"I thought you weren't going to use those in the castle," Merlin says. Arthur doesn't respond and after a moment, Merlin goes back to trying to sort out the mess that is Arthur's bookshelf.

"If you would prefer to resume your apprenticeship with Gaius," Arthur says stiffly, "I can arrange to have you transferred back to his employ."

"What on earth makes you think that?" Merlin exclaims.

"When did you first visit with the dragon?" Arthur asks, ignoring Merlin's question.

"About two days after I arrived here," Merlin replies. "What's that got to do with anything."

"And then you arranged to become my servant," Arthur says, still looking out of the window. "You can perfectly well fulfil this destiny of yours while working with Gaius, you know. I'll send for you if I need your assistance with anything."

Merlin stares at Arthur's back, not sure what on earth is going on. "First of all, the servant thing was your father's idea, not mine." Arthur doesn't react. Merlin looks at him, more distant than he's been for months and suddenly it clicks into place in his head. "And actually, having to do all your laundry doesn't make it any easier to sneak around saving your life. It does help when it comes to covering for you so you can duck out of patrol to laze around in here once in a while and play cards with me though."

He can see the flush on the back of Arthur's neck. Arthur doesn't say anything in response, but he seems to relax a little. Merlin turns his attention to the clothes which have been thrown on the floor after they got back from hunting yesterday and out of the corner of his eye he can see Arthur turn to watch him, lounging against the window-sill. "You need more friends," Merlin mutters grumpily. "Then you wouldn't have to be so touchy about things."

"I have plenty of friends all around the court, thank you Merlin," Arthur says with amusement in his tone.

"Those are cronies," Merlin retorts. Arthur snorts but doesn't deny it. The clothes pick themselves up and fold themselves on the bed. "I thought it was only to be used in emergencies," Merlin says with a touch of asperity.

"I said _you_ were only to use it in emergencies," Arthur says with a smile.

"We still have no idea what the dragon wanted to warn me about," Merlin says slightly uncomfortably.

"Well, Gaius' preparation should be ready tomorrow morning. We can go down and find out tomorrow night."

* * *

 

In the event, it only takes until just after noon, when a messenger rushes into Arthur's rooms to summon him to the courtyard immediately. Merlin looks at his face and decides it's probably not worth reprimanding him for failing to knock.

When they get down to the main courtyard, they find Uther in a towering rage and a huge statue partially blocking the main gate. It's about twice the height of a man, but it's only an approximation of a man's shape - the arms, legs, head are all there, but they haven't been sculpted, just roughly shaped. Its hands are balled into fists and Merlin wonders if that is to avoid the trouble of having to carve individual fingers. He wants to ask how it got there but he has a sinking feeling that he already knows - something that massive can only have been manoeuvred into place without interference from the guards by magic. The question is why.

"I have a message for Arthur Pendragon of Camelot," it intones. Merlin stares at it, wondering how it can speak at all; its throat doesn't seem to move and surely it can't have lungs in there, right? Does this mean it moved _itself_ here?

Arthur starts to step forward into the courtyard, but Uther grabs him by the arm. "What is this, Arthur?" he asks, eyes flashing dangerously.

"I don't know yet," Arthur replies steadily. "I'll go and find out, shall I?" Only a very close observer would be able to tell that Arthur fears Uther, Merlin thinks. Arthur strides out into the courtyard.

"I am Arthur Pendragon," he shouts up at the thing. "Give me your message and depart."

"Arthur Pendragon," the statue intones, "you will not pass this gate until you have unmade me." There are no inflections in the voice, Merlin notices. It's just flat, expressionless. Once it has finished speaking, it raises its arms until they are crossed across its chest and just stares down at Arthur.

Arthur turns to one of the guards at the edge of the courtyard. "Get me a mace," he snaps, "and my horse," and then turns back to stare at the statue. Merlin tries to think of a way he can point out to Arthur that this may not be a good idea, but all the ones he can think of involve words which cannot be said in front of Uther.

Arthur mounts up and swings the mace experimentally. "It looks slow moving," he says tersely, "and I should be able to get in under it's reach." He kicks the horse into a canter across the cobbles and Merlin can only wince as the statue swings an arm at frankly ridiculous speed and throws Arthur across the courtyard. He can only see the momentary pause in Arthur's arc because he's looking for it, the moment before Arthur can override the instincts to save himself with Merlin's magic and lets himself crash down into the paving.

Arthur just lies there and Merlin has to forcibly remind himself that he's probably only winded as he dashes across the courtyard to help Arthur up. Arthur, he notices worriedly as he does so, has a glint in his eye which has nothing to do with magic but certainly means trouble. "Right," he says and marches towards the barracks.

Over the next hour they try it with various combinations of knights and guards, mounted and on foot using various weapons. The statue is oblivious to anyone but Arthur - any other knight can ride right up to it and strike it unimpeded. Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to help because the weapons bounce off, shatter, or otherwise have no effect. Any time Arthur gets too close, it picks him up and slings him away, and that seems basically to be it.

Finally, they decide that the light is no longer good enough to do anything anyway and Arthur dismisses the knights and makes for his chambers, Merlin in his wake. As soon as the door closes behind them, Arthur sags and groans. "Get me out of this stuff," he says to Merlin, gesturing at the armour and Merlin strips it off gently, trying not to knock any of the developing bruises. Judging from the occasional hisses Arthur gives, he isn't entirely successful.

"Bath's behind the screen," Merlin says, and Arthur throws him a grateful look.

"Perhaps you're not totally incompetent as a manservant. Lay out my clothes for this evening and then go find Gaius and see if he's got any idea about this bloody thing. I won't need you until after dinner."

* * *

 

Gaius' potion is ready and Merlin takes it up to Arthur with an inward sigh of relief. Unfortunately, Gaius' doesn't seem to have any ideas about how to deal with giant statues except to tell Merlin that they're called golems and extremely difficult to make. They hunt through the magic books for further information but don't come up with much and Merlin eventually leaves Gaius still working to take Arthur his dinner and the potion.

"Is that it?" Arthur asks immediately Merlin sets the tray down, gesturing at the beaker Gaius had sent.

"Yep," Merlin replies slightly glumly, "but you might want to wait. Gaius thinks the only way we'll be able to destroy the golem is with magic. And it might have to be you doing it."

Arthur stares at him. "Well obviously that's out of the question, so we'll have to find another way around it."

"There might not be another way," Merlin points out heatedly, "and this isn't going to go off, apparently, so just eat your dinner and think!"

They fall silent as Merlin sets out the plates and pours the wine. After a few minutes thought, Arthur asks "Why does it have to be me?"

"You're the one it challenged," Merlin replies. "We think that means you have to kill it. It's immune to other people. Can't you just sneak out tonight once everyone's asleep and do it then. No-one would know it was you."

Arthur glares at him. "Apart from the fact that it's guarded and I don't have any idea of how to destroy it with magic, if it's destroyed overnight people will just conclude that there's a powerful sorcerer around who now has some kind of hold over the throne because he's done us a favour. It will completely upset the power balance of Camelot, as well as start a witch hunt."

"Oh," Merlin replies. "Fair enough."

"What I need is to be able to actually be able to damage it with a sword. I could deal with the speed if I could make an impact," Arthur muses. "Can you do anything to my sword?"

"Um, not without it looking a bit magic, I don't think," Merlin admits, remembering the lance he made for Lancelot to destroy the griffin. Then it hits him. "Unless we use the other sword," he exclaims.

"The other sword?" Arthur asks, looking blank.

"I made it for you to fight the black knight, but Uther used it instead and the dragon was so angry I put it in the lake," Merlin explains slightly garbledly.

"I see," Arthur says, in the tone of voice that means he's reassessing Merlin's sanity again. "And can we get it out of the lake again?"

"I can't see any other option," Merlin says, honestly.

* * *

 

By the time they make it to the shores of the lake, it's almost full dark. Merlin has to create a globe of light to prevent them from tripping over tree roots on their way. He had worried that the moonlight wouldn't be enough to dive for the sword with but once they get close enough, he can sense it under there, waiting. "Wait here," he whispers to Arthur, even though there's no reason for keeping their voices down. He strips down to his shirt and under things and wades into the lake. Of course, it's freezing. He mutters a curse under his breath and wishes he'd managed to come up with some excuse to make Arthur do this. Once he's deep enough, he dives.

Under the murky surface of the lake, the sword seems almost to glow. He can't tell whether it's just his magical senses or whether it really is giving off some kind of radiance but the aura of its presence is potent, more so than he'd remembered. He wonders suddenly if anyone else can sense it. He may have to think of a better hiding place after all this is over. Finally, he wrestles it free from the weeds and kicks up for the surface. As he breaks the surface, he sees Arthur watching intently by the light of the globe. He toys with the idea of kneeling, but in the end just thrusts the sword at Arthur slightly awkwardly, hilt first, as he wades up out of the water.

Arthur throws him a towel and takes the hilt, expression indecipherable. He gazes at the sword, hefting it and turning it as Merlin dries himself off. Finally he says, "You made this for me?"

"Yeah, well, I didn't do the smithying, obviously, and the dragon set the magic," Merlin says and then tails off, hearing himself babbling. "Yeah," he agrees after a moment. "I didn't want you to die."

Inexplicably, it's the wrong thing to say. Arthur turns away, pushing the sword into his scabbard and starting back up the hill. "Of course," he says as he walks, "destiny and all that."

Merlin follows and reaches out, grabbing Arthur's arm and pulling him around. "Arthur, stop it! I didn't want you to die. All this destiny stuff, it isn't instructions, it's just, just description. Why is it so hard for you to believe that I might actually care about you?"

Arthur stares at him blankly for a moment and then grabs hold of Merlin's arm with his free hand and pulls him closer, bringing their lips together. For a moment, Merlin just lets it happen, lets his mouth fall open as Arthur's tongue pushes against his teeth and it's incredible and he feels like he's opened his eyes and then opened his eyes again and suddenly there's a whole new way to think about all the things they've said to each other and there will be plenty of time to think about that _after_ and he shifts a little to get a better grip on Arthur's arm and push his own tongue around and breathe in Arthur.

And Arthur pulls away and steps back slightly. His voice is unsteady as he says, "If I let myself believe that you care, it makes everything harder." He turns away and starts walking back up into the woods towards Camelot and Merlin stares at his back, wondering what the hell he should say to that.

* * *

 

Getting rid of the golem is almost anti climactic after that. Arthur carves it up with the sword and presumably Uther recognises it because he doesn't say anything about it, just congratulates Arthur for having saved the kingdom from the evils of magic once again. Merlin carefully doesn't look at Arthur at all during the speech. Afterwards he goes upstairs and prepares Arthur's bath and tidies his chambers and tries to ignore the fact that he still has no idea what to say.

It's not like he's never thought about kissing Arthur, after all. Or about what it would be like to be able to run his hands over Arthur's muscular chest once he's helped him out of his shirt. Or, well, a whole array of other things which have helped him to enjoy himself after hours. It's just that he'd never had any inkling that Arthur might have any kind of interest. After all, Arthur fucks a chambermaid a month as if he's on some sort of schedule. And yesterday he kissed Merlin like he was about to die and mixed up with everything else in his eyes when they broke apart had been a look that Merlin hadn't seen before this whole thing started what feels like months ago but was actually only a couple of days ago when Arthur lit the fire without ever stepping into the room.

He finishes everything up, mutters something under his breath to make sure the bath stays warm and makes for Gaius' rooms. Arthur doesn't send for him that evening at all.

* * *

 

"Merlin."

The voice of the dragon in his head merges with another one. He opens his eyes to find his room lit by candle light and Arthur standing in the door, the sword unsheathed in his hand. Merlin freezes.

Arthur immediately douses the candle. "Light it again," he says brusquely, and Merlin does so. The wavering glow as the flame takes hold again shows Arthur's stark expression of relief. "Thank god," he says. "I can still hear that damn lizard. I thought whatever Gaius did must have worn off again."

"I can hear it as well," Merlin admits. "I guess you're just sensitive to it now or something."

"Wonderful. How often is this going to happen?"

Merlin shrugs and then says tentatively "I'd better get up and go see what it wants."

Arthur spins around to stare at the wall as Merlin gets himself up and decent and Merlin tries not to think about anything as he pulls his breeches on. "I'm ready," he says after a moment.

"Let's go," Arthur replies tersely and leads the way down to the cave.

"I see that you have heeded my advice," the dragon tells them smugly when they arrive. "That is well for both you and the kingdom."

"You didn't give us any advice," Arthur points out. "You blasted at us and ranted." Merlin tenses up, ready to deflect the dragon's anger away, but it merely eyes Arthur, holding the sword, and gives a little cough.

"I wished only to warn you, little warlock, that the sword you forged is active once more," the dragon says, pompously. Merlin would be prepared to bet that the dragon had been going to lecture him about having failed in his duty to keep the sword out of harm's way. "I can see however, that such a warning is not needed. The sword has found its way into the proper hands." The dragon looks sideways at Arthur. "I wish you good fortune wielding it, Arthur Pendragon."

The dragon is looking altogether too pleased with itself and Merlin's just starting to wonder if it might not be a good idea to have a little conference with Arthur about what they're going to do with the sword now when Arthur says, smooth as butter, "Oh, I have no intention of wielding it."

The dragon narrows it's eyes. "It is your destiny to take the sword and to be ruler of Camelot," it says.

"All in good time," Arthur replies. "My father has many good years to live yet. However," he continues, cutting off whatever reply the dragon was about to start, "I think perhaps a slightly more secure resting place for it than the one Merlin managed to come up with might be in order. Perhaps you would consent to watch over it? We would not want Camelot's enemies to stumble across such a powerful weapon."

The dragon stares at Arthur without saying anything for a long minute. Eventually, it blinks and says "Very well, young Pendragon. I will guard the blade from any who might misuse it." It turns and breaths a long narrow tongue of pure heat at one of the rocks lying on the ledge. "Thrust it into the stone," it says and Arthur takes one long stride past Merlin to do so. The sword slides in as if the stone were nothing and stands, hilt pointing up. Arthur steps away, still holding the dragon's gaze.

"Only a ruler who will restore the balance to Camelot will be able to withdraw the sword," the dragon says. "I congratulate you, Arthur Pendragon. You show the sense and foresight which befits such a ruler." Arthur doesn't say anything, just inclines his head slightly, accepting the tribute, and turns to go. Merlin turns to follow him.

Just as he gets to the mouth of the passageway, the dragon calls to him. "Oh, Merlin," quiet, almost mocking. Merlin stops and turns to look at it and then turns back. Arthur hasn't stopped, is still making his way back up towards the castle proper and Merlin decides he doesn't need to hear it. He follows Arthur up the stairs.

When they get back to his chambers, Arthur looks wrung out, and it's second nature for Merlin to kick the door shut, drop the latch and get Arthur a glass of wine. Arthur takes a long draft and then sets the glass down and stares into the fire, silent. Merlin watches and eventually, Arthur seems to remember that he's there and it's late. "You may go, Merlin," he says. "I shalln't need you until tomorrow."

Merlin thinks about it. "No," he says after a second.

Arthur rouses up, stands up from his chair and glares. "Merlin," he says, warningly.

"I care about you," Merlin says softly and steps towards Arthur, halting when they're standing chest to chest, almost touching. They're so close that Merlin sees the aborted movement Arthur makes to reach out and touch before he turns away, strides over to the window.

"And I about you," Arthur admits after a second, not looking at Merlin. "You are my body servant, Merlin. I cannot take advantage of you in that way."

"Excuse you!" Merlin says indignantly. "If I want to be taken advantage of, that's up to me." The tone makes Arthur turn around again so that Merlin can see the look in his eyes, and it's part amused exasperation but it's part fear and Merlin adds "No one needs to know," trying to be jokey, meaning Arthur can fire him afterwards if he turns out to be terrible between the sheets.

Arthur stares at him for a moment and then says, "If my father ever suspected that I." He tails off.

Merlin stares. "It's not like he's going to execute you for that!"

"No," Arthur agrees. "But he'd execute you."

Merlin stares at Arthur for a moment, furious. Furious with Uther for being the father he is to Arthur, with Arthur for _letting him_, with himself for not realising, for letting it go on this long. "Then don't tell him," he says when he has his voice under control again. He feels the heat uncurl inside of him as his eyes flare golden. The window gently clicks shut under his influence, but Arthur doesn't look around, doesn't take his eyes off Merlin. "No one will hear us," Merlin assures him softly. "No one will know." He steps around the table and puts his hand on Arthur's arm, leans up towards Arthur's mouth and Arthur gives in, gives up, and leans down to meet him.

It's just as good as Merlin remembers, feels just as right. Arthur is warm and strong and golden and Merlin can feel every point of contact between the two of them - Arthur's hands on his hips, his own hands on Arthurs arms, their lips joined together, wet and messy, their tongues exploring eachother, tasting. It feels like a kiss he could drown in, like they are now sealed together, fused. It feels like a shock when they break apart for air.

"I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of this," Arthur says shakily.

"I don't," Merlin says softly. "You can't chose your circumstances. We'll just have to be as honest as we can." He leans back in to kiss Arthur some more and Arthur relaxes into him as they start to make eachother promises without words.


End file.
